


The dragon's rebirth

by SimoneMorgan



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-15 22:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1322110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimoneMorgan/pseuds/SimoneMorgan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens if a valyrian witch decided that she doesn't want to die in the Doom? What if she wakes 500 years later to find that the only remaining dragons are a madman from the West and his family? Will she try to help them or will she collapse like her world? Prologue takes place during the Doom, the first chapter will star 5 years before the Rebellion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Doom of Valyria

**Author's Note:**

> That's my first fanfiction ever so... be nice and patient with me! I really love ASIOAF and i think that a great injustice was made to Aerys Targaryen and Rhaegar Targaryen, which by the way are my favorite characters! I would try to write Aerys as a real person with problems, qualities and sins and not just a madman. As for Rhaegar, I think that is more to his character than just a obsessed, infatuated prince. I would try to make them justice and I hope you will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

**Prologue**

 

I woke up in the middle of a fire. Thick clouds of smoke threatened to choke me and the unbearable heat that surrounded me from everywhere made me dizzy. I knew I would die, but I did not want this to happen right now. I didn’t want to melt into the inferno of screams, red flames and ashes, which had already swallowed the entire city.

 

I got up from the ground and I ran as fast as I can. Hot tears ran down my face and that damned smoke threatens to completely take over me. I stepped on something soft that groaned and then I felt for the thousandth time this day that the sky fall over me. That something was a living person, a man with eyes that begged me for help, his burned lips forming a desperately request to me, to whatever god that has turned against us. I cursed the day when the demon of fire that ruled these lands sent me on earth and I ran. I ran from the screams of a dying man, I ran from the house in which I lived 16 years, I ran and I hoped that we still had a chance.

 

The white marble streets of my town melted under the heat that seemed to pulsate inhuman in all beings. “ _This road is blocked_ ”, I thought. If I can’t reach the stables, I was as good as dead. If the dragons were melted in this hell, what chance had we, simple humans? What will become of the proud warriors with the blood of the dragon flowing through their veins? How do we defend ourselves from something that yesterday was our way to happiness, the force that put us above the world?

 

Dragons are our last hope, I thought feverishly. We can ride above the inferno, we can escape this hell, on all the gods of fire and eternal ice, we can drown in the sea water and we can go down to an abyss in which your soul didn’t burn. I turned down a side street, paved with stone and I ran to the stables outside the city. There were kept the sick dragons, those who were too young or too old for riding. If I was lucky, I could take Aurum and get out of here. Aurum was my 2 year old dragon, which was as skeletal as me, who was my wings and fire, and now, my only hope.

 

I arrived at the gates and I froze. The dragons were yelling, spitting fire and killing any creature that was around them. I watched as the previous owners of the dragons were burn alive by the fire of their own dragons. Crying hysterically I ran into the flames and I called my dragon.

 

" _Aurum_ ", my voice was hoarse with tears and despair and it was nothing but a whisper besides the general noise. A single wing dragon crawled towards me. I started yelling for help but nobody was interested in my salvation.

 

" _Stop_ ," I yelled with all the strength left. The beast looked at me with eyes of liquid fire and I felt my blood pressure drop. "Stop, _aegrotus_ , stop, _antiquus animus_ " I yelled in the ancient language of my people. The dragon stopped and looked at me uncertainly. The wildness inside him wanted me dead, but spells of obedience millennium old, spells that were thrown by my people on the fire and those born from it, prevented him from hurting me.

 

Can I stop this apocalyptic fire with my spells? I looked around for another _lux_ , but apparently I was the only one. Of course, I was not a full _lux_ , but I was strong. I knew it, I could get out of here.

_“Aurum, respondeo! Relinquo metus, vocebam Aurum, vinco unda ab ignis, vinco pugnans!”,_ I cried and suddenly, two eyes like molten gold appeared before me. I smiled relieved. I rode on Aurum and I urged him to go higher and higher, as far away as we can go from blood, fire and death.

 

                                                        *

                                                     *     *

 

"Do not look down," I thought while I urge my dragon to fly higher. The sky was red because of the flames and then I realized. No matter how hard I tried, I can’t get out of this nightmare _now_. The gods wanted us dead and no mortal could oppose the Them. I was going to give them my death, my dragons but not my powers.

 

 To kill myself and wait for my spells to wake me up was the only way to survive. It was a frail chance. I knew it was considered a sin to resist the supreme gods of death, but others have done it before and I was not going to let this opportunity to slip through my fingers. I took my dagger made of Valyrian steel and I stuck it deeply into my dragon eye. A howl of grief and betrayal rip the sky. "Worth it," I said, and removing what was left of the blade, I stuck it firmly into my chest. Warm blood flowed from the wound and with it, all my vital force. I felt a metallic taste in my mouth and before I can say anything else, a farewell to the world that created me and now asked for my life, blood gushed on my mouth and my vision went dark. The last was the taste of blood, the last sounds were the tortured screams coming from the sons of fire, the last thing I saw was death that rushed to take my soul ...

 

_“De igne natus,_

_Ego bibit meum sanguinem,_

_Osculum mortem,_

_Quin ego non dixit…_

_Nam lux mea exit_

_Paulo vitam subito excussum_

_Deos mortem, deos ignis,_

_Manet in corpore virtus mea compede!”_

And I fell. I drowned in my own blood. I died a thousand times but I never stopped falling ...


	2. The Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, but here's another chapter... obviously ! Enjoy and leave a review!

Aerys

 

 

Aerys Targaryen looked at his victim and smiled. Nobody stood against the king and get away with it. Never!

 

With a graceful gesture of his hand, the king ordered the reddish flames to knit the prisoner. Just like the loving fingers of a lover, the tongues of fire began to caress him with their heat, to fondle his white skin with their destructive power. Slowly, the king  raised his hand higher, leaving the flames to play with their prey, giving them a little taste of what they were promised to have after the show. Because this execution was nothing more than a show to make the king happy. Everything was for the pleasure of the king: the flames, the screams, the blood…

 

Aerys bared his teeth in a predatory grin and brought his fingers in fist. The flames rushed to the prisoner, biting, whipping him with their relentless heat. The maniac laughter of the last dragon echoed throughout the room, reverberating in frightening echoes. Yes, he must learn to suffer, to cry for his crimes, to prostrate in front of the one true King of Westeros, to humiliate and beg for the royal forgiveness.

 

“Tywin Lannister, King of the Seven Kingdoms”, tasted Aerys the words. “Sounds pathetic, does not it? A poor servant of the dragon wants to reign on the throne of his master. Never will the lion take the dragons place, NEVER!”, howled the king full of venom. The flames lifted to the ceiling making the Lord of Casterly Rock to release a pained roar. His skin melted like ice in front of the relentless sun. Aerys looked at his victim excited and smirked. He was the sun of the kingdom, lightning for the enemies, warm, harmless fire to the faithful ones. If they please him, he will reward them with warmth and light, but if they rebel, well, the king slowly began to laugh, well, he will take care to burn each piece of flesh of that traitor.

 

The Lord of the dragons licked his thin lips languidly trying in vain to calm his excited body. The agony of the lion was bringing him unexpected pleasures. With one last contemptuous look, Aerys Targaryen commanded the fire to swallow the traitor Lord.

 

A wave of pleasure ran through him when he saw the lion king dying  on the flames. Those cold and calculated eyes will never  look at him with hidden disdain, those thin lips will never speak contemptuous words to him ever!

 

                                                       *

 

 Cold sweat trickled on the hot skin of the king. Aerys close his eyelids and let go to a shaky breath. Why could not his dreams with  blood and fire  come true? Why could not he crush his real enemies as effective as those from his dreams?

 

"The dragon is not afraid of anything," said Aerys to himself. In the light of the day he was nothing more than a shadow of the mighty dragon Lord from his dreams. In this cruel reality Aerys did not control the flames and Tywin Lannister do not cower in the face of the king. Here, his own people looked at him disdain and pity, yes pity! They looked at the old man with scared and feverish eyes, with a slim silhouette and quivering voice and think poorly of him. Aerys know what others think of him, but for the sake of his sanity he liked to pretend that the dragon Lord of his dream rule the kingdom instead of his pathetic self. But this was not true and the king knew it very well.

 

With a last wheezing breath, the king rose from the bed and called his the servants to prepare him for a new day. Mirrors were something to be avoided  these days because of his bad appearance, slides were to be avoided because of his paranoia, food tasters had to taste from everything before he could begin to eat, people must to be checked against any weapons they could use to attempt to murder the king and the list goes on forever ...

 

Aerys sighed thinking about the isolation in which he lived, isolation designed to protect him from the death but which scared him more than it. Death means an eternity of darkness and loneliness, an eternity that bend to none of the laws of man.

 

He was afraid! The king would not have admitted to anyone, but he could not lie to himself. His whole life had been a series of failed ambitions, shattered dreams and unrequited love. He was raised in the shadow of a king and then he was given a cursed crown. He wanted to make changes, to prove that the Targaryen kings are the best rulers from all Weserors... And you know what he did instead? He gave the lion  almost unlimited power, he humbled himself in the Defiance of Duskendale and was still married with Rhaella.

 

With a resigned sigh, he head to the royal throne room to receive the complaints of his people. Normally that bitch of Tywin handle it, but today he was in mourning and prayed the king to keep his place. "Well, he didn’t say it like that", think the kink mischievous. " _If he did, I would have to show him his place_!" ” _What could you do?_ ",ask a wicked voice. _"I would have to kill him with blood and fire!_ " Aerys began to be nervous. The king hate this voices, but since Duskendale, they come after him everywhere. _"Maybe I am crazy_ " think Aerys amused. " _Maybe I should give my son all the power and give up to all this madness_ " he joke in his mind. Like the rightful king of Westeros would give the perfect prince what was his. Aerys   flinched at the thought. Rhaegar was too perfect, too loved from the lords and normal people alike, too modest, too handsome,  too charismatic for his own good. " _It is normal for a father to hate his own son?"_ The king asked himself. Even if the answer would be yes, he would not be able to like that little whining boy. On his list with the most hated people, his son have the second place, right after that annoying Tywin , but over his wife.

 

As he thinks of Rhaella , he should pay her a visit. " _Not her, Viserys’_ ", think the king with an affectionate smile. His little son was only three years, but you could see that he would resemble his father. " _Not like that git of his brother_ " ...

 

“Good morning”, says the king while entering his wife’s chambers. Rhaella looked up from her breakfast and began to study him.

 

“My lord”, she whispered, her voice trembling.

 

The king raises an eyebrow questioningly and began to look around the room for after people. His wife considered a sacred duty to make  herself to look like a martyr in the faces of others and to make him look like the devil. Not that Aerys had always been gentle or decent or even human   in some of the situations in which they were both involved, but his sister had an extraordinary talent to make him lost his temper. She had such a superior attitude that the king wants nothing more than to choke her. " _I tried that already and it ended deplorable_ ", Aerys think remembering the day he was ready to strangle his wife. He was almost ready but suddenly his damn conscience awoke to life and prevents him do it.  The Seven be witnesses that he regret that decision every day.

 

“My lady, can I bring you something else?”, ask a maid who was hidden from the king by a thick curtain.

 

“You can go”, growled the king. "Bitch," he thought ", she wouldn’t want to waste her precious talents on a stage without spectators."

 

“My Lord, something happened”, said his wife with a concerned  look  and a shadow of fear in her purple eyes.

 

“I just thought that you are a big hypocrite and one of the biggest mistakes of my life was that I did not kill you when I had the chance”, said the king with a smile. “Where is my son?”

 

“ In the training yard, my lord”.

 

“Not that son, sister”, growled the king.

 

“With Lord Tywin, brother…”

 

“What is Viserys doing with that bastard?”

 

“Language…”

 

“I am the king…”

 

“You speak like a tramp…”

 

“Nudnik shrew!”

 

“Aerys”, she cried indignant.

 

“Fine, fine”, mumbled the king.

 

“I'm sorry that I hurt your nonexistent honor . Now, tell me where my son is  ... “

 

“I already told you”, Rhaella replied innocently.

 

“And I've told you a thousand times that the imp is not my son”.

 

“ Really? Because I heard he has the same degenerate sense of humor and you can’t deny that there is a striking similarity in your appearance.... “

 

“Enough”, yelled Aerys and knocked his fist on the table. How his sister has come with the idea that the dwarf was his son, was beyond his comprehension. Though, he should not be shocked, since everything bad in the kingdom have a direct connection with him in his sister opinion.

 

“Daddy, what are you doing here?”, asked a squeaky voice from the door. Aerys turned and smiled blissful. A little boy about three years old with shaggy silver hair and smiling eyes watched him from the doorway.

“Your Grace, shouldn’t you be in the throne room?, asked another melodious voice.

 

“Mmhm”, growled the king something incomprehensible while taking Viserys in his arms. "Good thing he didn’t sing me the question", think Aerys with rancor.

 

“Majesty, we should leave if we don’t want the crowd to stir in our absence”, added Rhaegar while looking toward the door where the Grand Master, the Spider, and three of the King's Guard waited impatiently.

 

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that! Can you sing it for me? Can you creak with your violin simultaneously? “

 

“It is a harp”, whispered Rhaegar bored with his father’s antics.

 

“Aerys”, screamed his sister indignantly. The king raised his eyebrows questioningly while Rhaella throws him a look full of venom.

 

“Take care sister, you wouldn’t want to blow the lid off your acting” , whispered the king with a conspiratorial voice. With a sigh he  kissed his little son on the forehead, throw a last amused look to his wife and start walking to the throne room, to a day full of silly and unnecessary complaints.

  


	3. Awake and alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read & Enjoy & Review

Cap 3

 

While the pain is all you can remember, seconds turn into years, and minutes in centuries. An eternity of agony in which you beg for the gods mercy, in which you are crying your sins, your pride, your ambitions, and admit that you're nothing more than a tool in the hands of the creators, a puppet dancing an already planned life.

 

You beg for the death from which you have run from your entire life. You stop seeing it as a punishment but as a release from hell. Tears burn down your cheeks and you can’t breathe anything but fire. You open your mouth to scream your pain and despair but all that comes out is a feeble moan, a moan just as frail as your hope for salvation is. From what someday was a proud and haughty spirit which could command the fires, hasn’t remained but a mere shadow that begs for divine mercy.

 

How many times has she cursed her own stubbornness, how many times has she deplored her pride? How could a mere mortal to believe himself over the gods? How could that soul believe that he can extricate himself from the one and only undeniable force in the world, the death?

“How could I throw myself into an eternity of agony and regrets?”

 

Silence. In a world where so far was only pain, a thought fostered.  There are glimpses of a conscience that awakes to life. The cruelty of the gods is forgotten and a burning desire to be, bursts from the dark abyss where the poor soul was lost for so long. Fears are forgotten, forgotten is the agony! All that remained was the will to wake up.

 

The vanity, the need for power, the hunger for control, the desires and the hate, they all wake up from their long sleep and start to push the soul to the world of living ones.

 

                                                                                 ***

 

My first attempt to breath was extremely painful. My lungs were on fire and my throat was so dry that the mere presence of air was enough to bring tears to my eyes. Trying to make some sense from this completely chaos, I tried to get up but I failed miserably. My whole world was in a blur. In shades of grey and red, the things around me were still dancing around my eyes.

 

When my vision had finally cleared I gasped. What was in front me was not my city, hell, you can’t even say that the landscape was a believable one. Where a long time ago, the silver rivers and ancient forests of Valyria were standing proud, now was a red, dead desert. Red and green flames were trying to touch the big, black clouds, the wind was crying the fall of a mighty empire and the shadows were roaring and screaming their despair. Everything that was growing under that reddish son and black, toxic clouds made of dark magic, was dying and suffering.

 

The only one. With despair I realized that I was the only one that had survived the doom. I was scared, alone and weak. I had just woke up from a 300 years come, sleep, death… whatever that horrible thing was, and now I was confronted with the death of my entire world. My family was gone, my friends, my teachers, my dragon and my life had ended when I spoke the words of the curse.

 

But I refused to give up so easily! I was the one that conquered death, I was the one that had tricked the only force in the world that bend to nobody. Glaring at the things around me, I get up and called for my magic. Concentrated, I start to mumble an incantation that was supposed to take me away from there. I started to put more and more magic in the spell, not being able to see or hear nothing from the outside world…

 

“Arghhh” something yelled behind me. With my heart sinking, I turned around watched with horror how a weird looking dragon roared his fury to me. Annoyed be the disturbance, I said the necessary spell for killing the dragon, and I started to say the transporting spell. It had never occurred to me that all the dragons were clearly dead and that the creature standing before was not an ordinary dragon. Nope. Never had I thought about it.

 

Avoiding the fire be mere millimeters, I stared dumbly at the creature. This was not normal, no, he… it must be dead! The curse never fails! I had done it before and…and… I barely avoided the fire once again.

 

 Throwing one last glance at the zombie-dragon, I begun to run for my dear life. Conjuring a magic shield around me, I began to draw the necessary runes for the _Tenebris Maledicite_.

 

“Ignis est servus meus, umbra scutum meum, ferrum lucis aeternae obruat rumperet”, I yelled with all my strength. If the creature was a one belonging to the light, the course wouldn’t have bothered him  more than a light pinch, but because this… thing was clearly a dark one, the curse had crushed it into oblivion. With wonder, I watched as the creature started to yell and burn with a green flame. Smirking, I looked at the black bones and rotted meat. Yes, I thought, my powers are still working. Then why…?

 

My question had completely flown from my mind when I noticed the changes around me. The wind was so thick with black magic that I could hardly breath and the flames and shadows that were all around me begun to crawl to the place where I was standing. It was like all the nature was concentrating its strength to attack me. And then I realized. This magic, this strange force that was giving life to all the creatures, including that dragon, well, that force was coming straight from the island. I was fighting Valyria!

 

Thinking frantically of a way out, I prayed to all the gods to not kill me right now.

 

“ _Tempus est fluvius, et ego in eo natare. Volitans in aere, et locus eius. Terrae, aeris, aquae et ignis et notoriae vocat me, ut mihi_ ”. My magic filled me with a white light and all the darkness was gone. A strong feeling of nausea overcame me and I was feeling as if I was cut into a million parts _.“ Please, gods, let just a house of light to be still standing in the colonies_ ”, and with that last pray to an unknown god I fall into an abyss.


	4. The Execution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay I had a lot of stuff to do in Real Life... So this is the first chapter in Rhaegar's POV and I would like a lot to have some opinions about:) Enjoy

Rhaegar

 

A day like any other day. Ordinary. The knights were fighting in the training yard, the servants were running silently along the halls and the nobles were talking with low voices about what’s new and interesting. Everybody in the Great Hall was expecting the King.

 

The air was full of agitation and loud noises. Lords and common people, they had come to request the king’s justice. Usually, the King’s Hand hears the pleas, but today he was morning his dead wife.

 

It was a long time since the King came to the Hall to hear the requests himself. Everybody has heard the whispers about the His Highness’ sanity, but nobody wanted to test the rumors.

 

The Great Hall’s doors opened to reveal the King, the Crown Prince and some of the Kingsguard. A general gasp was heard in the Hall.  Albeit the Aerys was just 34 years old, he looked like an old, sick man. His pupils were dilated and they have a feverish glow to them. His hair was already white, but not the characteristically silver blond color so specific to his family, instead it was a plain white like every other old man from his kingdom had. His skin was like parchment, yellowish and corrugated, and his face was half hidden behind a long beard.

 

Prince Rhaegar knew that his father was not a handsome man anymore, but this…thing that he became was horrible. Lord Lannister was truly looking more like a king, than the King himself.  Sighing to himself, the Prince took his seat behind the King and began to listen to complains.

 

The first one who had the courage to ask for the King’s justice was an old man dressed like a sailor.

 

“Your Grace, I was nearly killed last night. My son and my traitorous wife tried to kill me in my sleep in order to steel all my money. I’m a poor man, Your Highness, and all my life I worked as a sailor, Gods know that I have very few money saved for my black days. I give them everything they needed, my King, but they were greedy and wanted to take the little I have to spend on petty things. And it’s not the fact that they wanted to rob me! No, my King, I’ll have never bothered You with that, but they wanted to kill me! Me, their savior and their protector! Me, who has skipped my meals to give them something to eat. Me, who was starving on my trips in order to afford to send them money for food! Oh, Your Grace, I have sacrifice myself for their good….”, the man kept wailing about the injustice of his life, when the King raised a hand, asking for silence.

 

“Where are the culprits?”, asked the King in a collected tone.

 

An old, gaunt woman and a small, underfed child came from the crowd. They stood there sacred and unsure about their future.

 

Rhaegar’s heart melted before that sight. It was oblivious that the old sailor was lying, but why? What could he gain from the imprisoned of the two? It was clear as daylight that neither the small, skinny woman nor the meager child could have done anything to the man, than what…

 

“Do you have any witness?”, asked Aerys.

 

“Yes, yes of course, my Lord!”. Two City guards came into the view and began to told the King that while they were doing their patrols, they heard screams and therefor go in to that house. Arriving at the respective place, they saw the sailor unconscious on the floor. They began to question the woman and the child, but the two refused to talk. At this point in the story, the women furrowed her brow and raised her eyes shyly to look at the King. Rhaegar was about to ask his father to pay attention to her when Aerys ordered tot the other witnesses to come forward.

 

After another witnesses, Prince Rhaegar was not so sure about the innocence off the two. All the facts proved the other way. The neighbor said that the two husbands often fight about the money, that the women was a greedy person and that the child was a little pickpocket.  The shopkeeper said that the women was always in debt and that her husband always pays her arrear.

 

Aerys looks at his son and opened his mouth to ask him something. Rhaegar leaned forward ready to tell his opinion about the _crime_. In the last moment, the King changed his mind and began to pronounce the sentence:

 

“For the crime of attempting to kill and rob his husband, you…” and the King indicated the women “ …will be punished with…” Aerys stayed a little to think about the punishment. His eyes fell on Rhaegar, who was looking angry at his father. When the prince saw that his father eyes were on him, he prepared to say something to defend the women.

 

With a thin and mean smile on his lips, Aerys raised his hand to silence his son. “… death…” Ignoring the gasp and the protesting murmurs of the Hall, he began to laugh silently and whispered with pure hate “… _by burning at the stake!”_

 

Rhaegar cursed and walked towards his father, who was laughing lauder now, with a maniac edge in his voice. Coming close to the throne, he heard his father whispering harsh commands : “ Kill them. They disobeyed the law, they disobeyed the king. Kill Them! Kill them! Burn the traitors!” 

 

The King red eyes fall on his form and the prince saw with horror how his father eyes filled with joy at sight of his terrified self.

 

“ _Lord Lannister was right_!”, thought Rhaegar desperate. _“ My father is crazy_ ”. Throwing at the laughing man from the throne one last disgusted glance, Rhaegar started to yell commands at the guards to stop their activities. A strong hand caught him from behind.

 

“Stop it, Rhaegar!” whispered Ser Arthur Dayne. “It’s your authority against the King’s! You don’t want to provoke your father further, do you?”

 

“And what am I supposed to do? Stay and watch as an innocent women is burned alive for a crime that we are not even sure that has taken place as we were told? Lord Lannister would never…”

 

“Shut up with the Lion! It’s clearly as daylight that your father didn’t ordered the death of this women because he considered her truly guilty! He thought of _your_ mother, Rhaegar! He thought that you will need a reminder of what happened to traitors…”

 

“Why me?” asked Rhaeger in a hysterical voice. Looking at the screaming women that was dragged towards a newly build stake, the prince tried to pull himself free from Arthur’s iron grip. “Let me go! For the sake of the seven! He is going to burn the poor women for nothing! I can’t let that happen! I can’t let an innocent women die for my father craziness!...”

 

“ _Your_ father is the _King_! The one and only! And you are his son and a Prince! So stop acting like a traitor if you don’t want your father to accuse you for rebellion!”

 

“God dammit, Rhaegar” barked the knight to the struggling prince. “Pay attention! It’s you or her! Let him burn her if that means that you’ll keep your head on your shoulders!”

 

Rhaegar stopped and looked helplessly as the women was mounted on the stake. The guards pour a substance on the wood and the stake erupted in green flames.

 

By now the Hall was stunned in a terrified silence. The eyes of the watchers were dancing between the screaming women and the laughing King.

 

“Mad! The King is Mad!” whispered the people in a horrified woner. The Grand Master was looking rather sick and the other Kingguards were looking like they were having an inside battle between the desire to help the women and the thought that they were sweared to the King.

 

Rhaegar stood there with the rest of them, looking at the dying women. This was the first day of terror of the true reign of Aerys Targaryen, the Mad King. He watched helpless how her body was eaten by the flames. He heared his father’s insane laughter echoing towards the Hall and everything that Rhaegar could think about was that this was a nightmare of fire and blood came true. And the only one that was pleased by it was King Aerys himself.


End file.
